Having recently relapsed on alcohol, I was starkly reminded of just how bad a drunk I am. Seriously, it’s a spectacle. I turn into a walking emotional liability. I already cry a lot. Drinking just makes it less optional.
Having said this, you’d probably expect me to say alcoholism is worse than kratom… especially since most people don’t even know what kratom is (though thankfully that’s starting to change). But honestly? I don’t know which is worse. It doesn’t really feel like picking sides, more like comparing two very different kinds of mess.
Immediate vs. Gradual Consequences
Alcohol hits hard and fast. The fallout shows up right away—fights with friends and family, trouble at work, even run-ins with the law. My relationship with drinking left a trail of damage. I didn’t wake up one day suddenly addicted, but the consequences showed up long before the real spiral began.
Kratom is slower. It sneaks in, almost quietly. It didn’t wreck my friendships, but it did put a real strain on my marriage. I didn’t lose jobs or end up in court, but I did dig myself into financial holes and carry around a lot of emotional weight.
If I had to compare the two, alcohol feels like a panic attack—loud, chaotic, impossible to ignore. Kratom is more like chronic depression—quieter, heavier, and easier to hide in the moment. Neither is a good option. You just don’t get a prize for surviving one over the other.
The Jekyll and Hyde Effect
Kratom never really changed who I was. Alcohol, on the other hand, turned me into a full Jekyll-and-Hyde situation. With kratom, it wasn’t that—I was still me—but it dragged me into a depression so deep it ate away at everything. Alcohol blew things up right in front of me, but kratom was the loneliest experience I’ve ever had. Try explaining to people that you’re falling apart because of something they’ve never even heard of. At least with alcoholism, people recognize the word.
When I did open up, friends would shrug and say, “Well, at least it’s not alcohol.” And I’d sit there thinking, “Yeah… I guess?” It’s strange, comparing one addiction to another, like I’m weighing them on a scale. But that’s the reality—two completely different nightmares, and somehow I lived through both.
Quitting: A Tale of Two Addictions
When I quit drinking, I pushed through the first 24 to 48 hours and then I was basically fine. No AA, no sponsor—just therapy, willpower, and vibes. was so determined that being around alcohol didn’t even faze me. When I decided I was done, I was done.I almost checked into rehab once, but I freaked out during detox and left. I wasn’t ready yet, and I knew it.
Kratom was a whole different beast. Even when I was ready—really ready—my determination meant nothing. Quitting felt like actual hell. I only went cold turkey once, on my honeymoon of all times, and it was a nightmare. Sweating, depression, insomnia, restless legs, the full package. Truly a romantic getaway.
And the fun didn’t stop there. Once the physical part was over, my serotonin and dopamine were basically in shambles. About 30 days later it somehow got worse, thanks to PAWS (Post-Acute Withdrawal Syndrome). I got stuck in a cycle of quitting and relapsing on kratom, even while on Suboxone, which is not a great place to be. It made me feel like a hardcore addict for something you can buy at 7-Eleven.
Eventually, I got so fed up with the cycle that I went back to alcohol. Not exactly a gold-star decision, but it forced the kind of intervention I needed. So, do I regret it? Not completely.
The Trolls Come Out
Once people started to learn about kratom, the trolls emerged. They made it seem like we were trash for getting addicted to something from a gas station. Just to clarify, that’s not where I picked up my kratom habit, but once I needed more and more, the convenience of smoke shops and gas stations became my go-to. I felt like people thought I was trashy for being addicted to it. The irony is that kratom is marketed as a “healthy” alternative—to coffee, to alcohol. A mood boost, a little energy, a better option than drinking. Perfect bait for someone like me, just looking for relief. In reality, what they did was target vulnerable people, call it wellness, and cash in when they get addicted.
Then there are the pro-kratom advocates, which makes navigating this whole situation even trickier. The substance has had such a profound negative impact on my life while seemingly being positive for others. For the record, I don’t think kratom shouldn’t be banned, but it definitely needs regulation, especially extracts like “Feel Free” and “7-Oh.”
Final Thoughts
So while I’m mostly focusing on kratom since that’s what’s fresh in my mind, I can’t forget that I did recently relapse on alcohol. It took five years to get there, and strangely, that’s part of why I feel more solid in my sobriety now. I don’t have that voice in my head anymore—the one that used to wonder if maybe I could drink again someday and be fine. I can’t.
Alcohol created reckless situations that kratom never did. But kratom drained me in a different way. It left me hollowed out, with suicidal ideations I had never felt before, which was unsettling after all the progress I’d made once I quit drinking.
This comparison doesn’t really give me an answer. It just reminds me that addiction, in any form, strips you down until there’s not much left.
May 21st was supposed to mark my 6-year soberversary from alcohol. Instead, I’m acknowledging a different milestone—about one month since my unexpected relapse. And trust me, no one was more surprised by this plot twist than I was.
What led to this unexpected detour? Well, it turns out my kratom addiction (which I’ve written about before) completely wrecked my body chemistry. When I finally quit kratom, my serotonin levels absolutely tanked. And I don’t mean just a little dip—I mean the lowest I’ve ever felt in my life.
On paper, my life was fine—great, even—but I felt worse than I ever had in my entire life. And I’ve been on antidepressants for years, so that’s saying something.
I later discovered I’m not alone—in recovery groups I’m part of, kratom users report suicidal ideation with alarming frequency, both while using and especially during withdrawal. The mental health impact of this substance is seriously underestimated.
For those unfamiliar, PAWS (Post-Acute Withdrawal Syndrome) is the gift that keeps on giving after you quit certain substances. Your brain chemistry goes haywire trying to rebalance itself, and it can last for months. Fun times.
In my infinite wisdom, I decided alcohol seemed like a safer alternative to going back to kratom. I told myself I could handle “just one” to take the edge off. Part of me even had been romanticizing my past reckless behavior, wondering if maybe, just maybe, I would be ok if I drank again one day.
What started as “just one drink to take the edge off” spiraled into a two-week bender. Maybe part of me thought that after almost six years, I could handle it. I couldn’t. The second alcohol hit my system, I became a completely different person—like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but with more drunk texting and fewer Victorian vibes.
I wish I could say I blacked out and don’t remember much, but no. I remember just about everything. And let me tell you, the embarrassment is strong. But in a weird way, I’m grateful for it. Seeing that version of myself again was a harsh but necessary reminder of why I quit drinking in the first place.
The truth is, I could have prevented this spiral if I’d been more honest—with myself, my doctors, and the people around me.
I had a suboxone doctor I’d only met with twice (virtually) who gave me way too many subs with little guidance. I was essentially making up my own dosing schedule (and often skipping doses because subs scared me). Meanwhile, I didn’t tell my regular psychiatrist about being on suboxone. I mentioned needing to up my antidepressants but didn’t explain why until it was too late.
I saw the train coming but didn’t move quickly enough to get off the tracks.
I’d gone on autopilot with my mental health—just going through the motions, not really engaging with the process or being honest about how I was truly feeling. That’s a dangerous place to be. Mental health requires constant vigilance and active participation, not passive management.
On the bright side—I’m about a month past that bender now, and I have zero desire to drink ever again. That little voice in the back of my head wondering if I could ever drink “normally” has been silenced for good.
I’m kratom and alcohol free, attending therapy more regularly, being transparent with my doctors, and I’ve adjusted my medication. The difference is night and day—I’m feeling 200% better. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this… normal?
I also learned a lot about how people handle situations during this time. I’ve become extremely grateful to a handful of people who showed up for me in ways I never expected—especially my husband, who has dealt with quite a bit. Though I’m starting to remember that I too have a lot to offer and am deserving of that level of effort and compassion (even if I’m a little unhinged at times). When you’re vulnerable, it’s easy to let people into spaces they haven’t earned access to, but not everyone deserves that proximity to your healing process. And not everybody wants to be a part of it… and that is ok too. Find your people and move on. I’m so grateful to have found mine.
This experience taught me several important things:
You don’t need to be embarrassed by being on antidepressants. It’s not big pharma just trying to drug me up—imbalances exist, and it’s ok if you need assistance to feel your best.
I need to check in more with friends. I leaned heavily on some people during this time, and their support meant everything. But I also learned they were going through their own struggles—you truly never know what someone else is dealing with.
I can control whether I have that first drink, but once alcohol is in my system, all bets are off. And I hate who I am when I drink, so it’s a hard pass from me.
Never go on autopilot with your mental health. The moment you start disengaging from your own care is the moment things start to unravel.
Here’s the thing: relapse sucks. But it is a part of recovery. And when I did the math, I realized that if you include the six years from my original sobriety date and subtract those two weeks of my bender, I was still sober for 99.3% of that time. That’s pretty damn good.
So, I’m choosing to live without shame. I’m focusing on stabilizing, being honest, and just trying to be a good person. Here’s to starting the counter again. Regardless of the reasons or circumstances, I take full responsibility for my actions. Turning back to the bottle was a poor and unsafe choice—one I won’t make again.
Alright, let’s talk about that plant—the one I won’t shut up about because it completely took over my life. I’m 30 days into quitting it, and let me tell you, PAWS (Post-Acute Withdrawal Syndrome) is apparently a thing with this stupid plant. And it sucks. It really does. The initial high of quitting is gone, and so is the high of sharing my story with everyone. But I know it’s still important to talk about, especially when so many people have no idea what it even is.
Kratom. The “all-natural” miracle plant that’s marketed as the answer to everything: stress, energy, motivation, chronic pain, bad hair days, existential dread—you name it, and there’s someone out there hyping it up. If you believe the sales pitch, it’s like the Swiss Army knife of life hacks. But the reality? It’s more like a knockoff Prada bag from Canal Street. It might look legit at first, but give it time, and you’ll realize it’s just a cheap fake that falls apart and leaves you worse off than where you started.This is just some food for thought—and honestly, mostly a reminder for myself. Because this sucks. But it’s worth it. And it’s worth talking about.
Let’s get one thing straight: Kratom isn’t just some innocent little plant that stumbled out of the forest to save humanity. It’s not a cup of tea or a yoga class. It’s a substance that binds to your opioid receptors. Yea….those same receptors that heroin and prescription painkillers latch onto. Now, I’m not saying Kratom is exactly the same as those heavy hitters, but let’s be real—if it’s knocking on the same door as opioids, it’s not here to sell Girl Scout cookies. It’s here to screw with your brain chemistry. At first, it feels like a cheat code for life. You take a dose, and suddenly you’re awake, focused, maybe even a little zen. You’re thinking, Shit, this is amazing. Why didn’t I try this sooner? But here’s the thing: Kratom isn’t creating anything new. It’s not generating energy or happiness or motivation out of thin air. All it’s doing is poking your opioid receptors and tricking your brain into dumping out its reserves of dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins. And while that feels great in the moment, it’s basically like emptying your fridge and eating all the snacks at once. Sure, you’re satisfied for a hot second, but now you’re out of food and probably feeling a little guilty.
Here’s where Kratom really starts to show its true asshole nature. After that initial high, your brain realizes it just got robbed. It’s like, Oh crap, we’re out of dopamine? Better cut production to make sure this doesn’t happen again. So now your baseline levels of happiness, energy, and motivation are lower than ever. You wake up feeling foggy, restless, and about as functional as a soggy piece of bread. And what’s the only thing that seems to help? Yea, you guessed it—more Kratom.And that’s how it traps you. It’s not just messing with your brain—it’s rewiring it. The more you take, the more dependent you become. You’re not chasing a high anymore; you’re just trying to feel normal. And the doses? They keep getting bigger. The effects? They keep getting weaker. The side effects? Oh, they’re having a goddamn party. Nausea, brain fog, exhaustion—it’s like Kratom is throwing a rager in your body, and you’re stuck cleaning up the mess.
If you’re anything like me, this is the point where you start bargaining with yourself. Maybe I just need to switch strains. Maybe I need to time my doses better. Maybe I need to switch back from extracts to capsules. Well… none of that’s going to work. You’re not going to outsmart Kratom. It’s already ten steps ahead of you, laughing its leafy little ass off while it drains you dry. At some point, you’ll hit the wall. You’ll take your usual dose, and… nothing. No energy, no focus, no relaxation. Just nausea, exhaustion, and the creeping realization that you’ve been played. You’re not even taking it to feel good anymore—you’re taking it to avoid feeling worse. And that’s when it hits you: Kratom isn’t helping. It’s hurting. It’s not giving you anything. It’s stealing everything.
Here’s the cold, hard truth: Kratom will never satisfy you. It doesn’t matter how much you take, how carefully you time your doses, or how many Reddit threads you read about “strain rotation” and “tolerance breaks.” It will never be enough. Because it doesn’t have anything to give. It’s not a source of energy or happiness or motivation. It’s a parasite. It takes what’s already yours, drains it, and then sells it back to you in weaker and weaker doses. That boost you’re chasing? That was your natural energy. That calm you’re looking for? That was your body’s ability to relax on its own. Kratom didn’t create any of it—it just stole it, and now it’s holding it hostage. And the longer you stay on this ride, the worse it gets. Higher doses, shorter effects, more side effects. Until one day, you’re left with nothing. No energy. No motivation. No joy. No money. Just an exhausted, dependent body that doesn’t even feel like you anymore.
Look, I’m not gonna sit here and pretend walking away from Kratom is easy. It’s not. It’s hard as hell. But staying on this path? That’s a guaranteed dead end. And you deserve better. You deserve to wake up and feel good without relying on a substance that’s messing with your brain and stealing your happiness. So here’s the plan: take a deep breath, flip Kratom the bird, and start taking your life back. It’s not gonna be pretty, and it’s definitely not gonna be fun, but you’re worth the effort.
Well, it’s been a week since my last post, and I’m happy to report: I’m still off kratom/ Feel Free, officially making it past the one-week mark of my millionth quit. This time feels different, though—similar to when I finally quit alcohol for good. That same sense of finality is creeping in, and I’m cautiously optimistic.
Before diving back into my story, I want to make something clear: I’m not on some crusade to ban kratom. I don’t support prohibition, but I do think people need to know what they’re getting into. Personally, I’d say stay the fuck away. That’s just me. Also, I hold no ill will toward my local kava bar—they were pretty transparent about the product, and I still think it’s a great alcohol-free space for those who want an alternative bar scene.
The Physical Toll
Let’s talk about some of the other side effects I didn’t mention last time. Besides the puking, kratom wreaked havoc on my skin. I got massive styes all the time and dry patches around my mouth that made me look like I’d been licking sandpaper. I also developed a pain in my lower left abdomen, eerily similar to the one I had during my drinking days. And while kratom sometimes helped my workouts, other times it felt like my body was completely failing me. I’d have to stop mid-run, and my husband—who knows how fit I usually am—would look at me like, “What the hell is going on?” Fun times, am I right?
Another factor that fueled my addiction? ADHD. I was diagnosed in 2019, and while Adderall helped at first, it gave me heart palpitations. Plus, knowing my addictive tendencies, I needed to be careful with controlled substances. When I switched my medication management to somewhere that didn’t allow Adderall prescriptions, I leaned hard into kratom, convincing myself it was one of the few things that could help me focus and stay energized. I convinced myself it was my lifeline. Spoiler: it wasn’t.
The Suboxone Chapter
When I left off last time, I had just started medication-assisted treatment (MAT) with Suboxone. For those unfamiliar, Suboxone is often used to treat opioid addiction by reducing cravings and withdrawal symptoms.* (Fun fact: kratom isn’t technically an opioid, but it binds to the same receptors, which is why Suboxone can still help.)*
Choosing Suboxone felt like a big step—some might even call it extreme—but I was fully informed and ready. My therapist had seen me at my worst during my alcohol addiction, and he said the reason he suggested Suboxone was because he’d never seen so much panic and desperation in my eyes before. I’m thankful I went with someone who had a conservative approach. My highest dose was just 2mg (for context, the standard dose for severe opioid addiction is 16mg).
At first, Suboxone was a godsend. I was able to quit kratom with minimal side effects, and it led to my longest quit yet—2.5 months. So, what happened?
The Perfect Storm
Well, life happened. The company I was working for suddenly moved me to part-time because they couldn’t afford a full-time marketer anymore. It wasn’t the worst thing at first—I applied for unemployment and spent my extra time job-hunting. But here’s the thing: I have never had an easy time holding down a job. During my drinking days, I’d get fired or quit constantly. After I quit alcohol, I’d finally landed some decent jobs, but thanks to COVID and layoffs, they all had short shelf lives.
When I lost my full-time role, I found myself with way too much idle time on my hands. And idle time, for me, is dangerous. I slipped back into kratom to keep myself motivated to do anything. At first, I’d take it during breaks from Suboxone, but eventually, I started taking them together. Yes, I know how insane that sounds. Suboxone is designed to block the effects of opioids (and, in theory, it should block kratom’s effects too), but I somehow convinced myself I’d still get the energy and focus—even if the euphoria was gone. Turns out, my brain is a liar.
Eventually, I landed a new job, but it came with a $17,000 pay cut. I took it out of sheer desperation, needing something—anything—to get back into a routine. Financially, it was a huge hit, and even though I was working again, I couldn’t keep up with my kratom habit. But that didn’t stop me. I started using money-borrowing apps like MoneyLion, sometimes juggling five at once. I opened a new credit card. I constantly asked my husband to help cover my overdrawn account—probably $1,000–$1,500 a month. I told him it was because my new salary couldn’t cover our bills. But I knew the truth.
Desperate for something better, I jumped at the first higher-paying opportunity I found. I ignored some glaring red flags—like the fact they didn’t want me to give a two-week notice at my current job—and took it anyway. It ended up being one of the worst culture fits I’ve ever experienced. The environment was toxic, the demands were either overwhelming or, worse, didn’t make sense. There was no proper training, I wasn’t even provided the tools I needed to do my job (like logins for the Instagram account I was supposed to manage), and the limited time off added to the frustration. I felt completely out of place—disheartened and defeated.
Between the pay cut from my previous job and the terrible fit of the new one, I was spiraling. I felt like I was going nowhere. My husband and I had been dreaming of buying a house, but here I was, drowning in debt, unable to go a week without borrowing money, and stuck in jobs that either didn’t pay enough or crushed my spirit. I felt so behind in life—like I’d never catch up.
The Mental Toll
I tried to quit Feel Free a few more times, but I always slipped back into my old habits by week two. Around this time, I started learning about PAWS (Post-Acute Withdrawal Syndrome). PAWS refers to withdrawal symptoms that kick in after the initial detox phase, typically within the first few weeks of sobriety, and can last for months—or even years. Symptoms include insomnia, anxiety, depression, fatigue, and irritability. It’s caused by brain chemistry changes from substance dependency, as your brain struggles to recalibrate without the substance.
Looking back, I’m pretty sure PAWS was a huge factor in my relapses. My quits usually lasted 1–4 weeks before the crushing depression would hit and send me spiraling back. It’s like your brain convinces you that the only way to feel “normal” again is to go back to the substance.
The depression was unbearable. I already have anxiety and ADHD and am prone to bouts of depression, so piling kratom withdrawal on top of that was a dangerous combo. I felt hopeless. There were days I genuinely didn’t think I could do it anymore. I wouldn’t say I was suicidal—death scares the shit out of me—but I did have passing suicidal thoughts. That should’ve been a wake-up call, but instead, I just kept spiraling.
Hitting Rock Bottom (again)
Between the toxic job and my kratom addiction, I hit my lowest point of isolation and depression. My husband started getting suspicious—why was I still asking for money when I had a new job? I felt like I was failing him. We’d been dreaming of buying a house together, but here I was, drowning in debt and unable to go a week without borrowing money. I felt so behind in life. Between this and my alcohol addiction, I was convinced I’d never catch up.
Only a few people knew I was still struggling with my addiction. It’s not like alcohol, where the problem is obvious to everyone around you. With kratom, I seemed totally normal to most people—if anything, they just noticed an uptick in energy. But the crashes, the depression, and the financial ruin? Those were harder to hide.
Once, I accidentally threw a full bottle of kratom into a public trash can. An hour later, I realized what I’d done and stuck my hand into the trash to fish it out. Because when you’re addicted, every $10 bottle counts.
The Turning Point
A week ago, I finally told my husband the truth. I had been planning to tell him for a while, but I kept putting it off, holding onto something he had said months earlier. In a moment of frustration, he told me he would never be able to understand if I relapsed again, especially after everything I knew about what kratom had done to me. I stewed over that offhanded comment for months, convinced I couldn’t tell him. But mostly, I think I was using it as an excuse.
My husband is literally one of the kindest people I know and has always tried so hard to be my rock. I think his comment came from a place of frustration and anger at what this product has put me through. He hates it because of how much pain it has caused me, and I don’t think he ever meant for his words to weigh so heavily on me. Of course, he also had no idea that I had already relapsed—multiple times.
Finally, during a drive to a family house for the weekend, I saw the opportunity and took it. I told him the truth. He was upset, understandably, but mostly he was supportive. We came up with a game plan to quit once and for all.
For me, disrupting my routine has always been key to quitting. Going away for the weekend was the perfect opportunity to break the cycle. I had a few Suboxone strips left and an upcoming appointment with my doctor. I’m hoping it’ll be my last.
Moving Forward
For the first time in years, I feel hopeful. My husband and I are working on a plan to get our finances back on track. I’ve also set up an appointment with my therapist to work through the anxieties and issues that make me so vulnerable to addiction.
Addiction is a sneaky bastard. Kratom and Feel Free promise energy and euphoria, but at what cost? For me, the cost was financial ruin, damaged relationships, and a mental health nosedive.
If you’re struggling, please know you’re not alone. Recovery is messy, but it’s worth it. If you’re struggling, please know you’re not alone. Recovery is messy, but it’s worth it. And if you’re considering kratom or spot those blue bottles at your local 7-Eleven? My advice: stay the fuck away.
Well, here we are again. Another year, another “oops, I forgot to cancel my website domain,” which means it’s time for me to share something deeply personal. Fuck it—let’s dive in.
So, here’s my cautionary tale of how I sort of accidentally got addicted to a so-called “wellness tonic.” Yep, you read that right. Me, a person who’s been sober from alcohol for 5 years, 7 months, and 22 days, found myself hooked on a little bottle of liquid marketed as a health drink. I don’t even check my sober app anymore unless it’s my anniversary, but I logged in while writing this to confirm the exact number of days since I quit drinking. And there it was, staring me in the face: the reason I quit alcohol in the first place—“I want to gain control of my life and future.” Heartbreaking, right? Because here I am, realizing that these little bottles of Feel Free have done the exact opposite. They’ve taken away the control I fought so hard to gain.
What the Hell is Feel Free?
Before we get into the nitty-gritty, let me explain what Feel Free is. It’s a two-ounce tonic extract that combines two plants: kava and kratom. Both have been gaining popularity as alcohol alternatives, and while that sounds great in theory, there’s a darker side to this story.
Kava is known for its relaxing effects and is often brewed into teas or served at kava bars. It’s not addictive, and honestly, I still enjoy it from time to time. Kratom, on the other hand, is a different beast. It interacts with the same receptors in your brain as opioids and can be highly addictive. Spoiler alert: Feel Free contains kratom—and not just a little bit—but they didn’t exactly make that clear on the label for years. In fact, at one point, Feel Free didn’t even list kratom as an ingredient at all, making it impossible for people who were trying to educate themselves to know what they were consuming. A lawsuit has even claimed that Botanic Tonics advertised Feel Free as a “safe, sober and healthy alternative to alcohol” without clearly disclosing the side effects of kratom, leaving consumers unaware of the risks.
Oh, and there are rumors that Feel Free ferments their kratom, which allegedly makes it even more addictive. People have also claimed that kratom can cause false positives on drug tests for hard drugs like MDMA. Now imagine the chaos when you realize Feel Free was the official tonic of various college athletic teams—teams whose athletes are liable to be randomly drug tested. I believe those relationships have since ended, but still—wild.
How It All Started
My journey with kava and kratom began innocently enough. When I first quit alcohol, I discovered kava bars, and they were a godsend. On my first sober birthday, I dragged my friends to one in the city. It was the best birthday I’d had in years—just me, my crew, and a space where I could feel normal without alcohol. That night, I stuck to kava, but I noticed something intriguing behind the bar: a little bottle called “Stinger,” a kratom extract. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but that was my first taste of kratom.
Fast forward to a few years later, and kava bars started popping up in my area. I was excited to have a place nearby where I could grab fresh-brewed kava, which is way better than the instant powder I’d been ordering online. But then I saw they had kratom tea. I remembered liking the Stinger extract from before, so I gave it a shot. Literally. I even took home a growler of the tea that day, and it became a regular thing. I liked the energy boost it gave me, and for a while, it felt harmless.
Enter Feel Free
My first encounter with Feel Free was at one of these kava bars. The bottle claimed to contain kava and a “proprietary blend” of other plant extracts. What it didn’t clearly state was how much kratom was in it—or as I mentioned before, that kratom was even a main ingredient. This lack of transparency is what makes Feel Free feel so much ickier to me than other clearly marketed kratom products. They tried to market themselves as a kava-based wellness drink, conveniently glossing over the kratom content for as long as they could.
To make matters worse, combining kava and kratom can possibly amplify their effects, making the drink even more potent. And because kratom doesn’t make you appear “high” in the traditional sense, it’s an easy addiction to hide. Like I said, at a certain point, I did know there was a potential for risk with kratom, but I hadn’t shown any signs of a problem yet, so I convinced myself my issue must just be with alcohol. I was “California Sober,” meaning I still smoked weed and didn’t abstain from all substances that could alter my state. AA can be very strict about this. For example, kava wouldn’t be allowed if you wanted to be successful in AA, and that’s probably another reason why AA never worked for me. Some people wouldn’t consider me sober at all, and I always make the distinction that my sobriety is from alcohol. But I’ve learned that sobriety has many shades of gray, and I’ll never knock what works for someone else’s journey. At that point, I didn’t do any “hard” drugs and only had an issue with alcohol, so I didn’t see a problem with my occasional use of kratom.
At first, I thought I could manage it. I’d have a bottle here and there, usually at social events where I didn’t want to feel left out. I even served kratom tea at my wedding, thinking it was just another fun, harmless alternative. But soon, it became an everyday thing. Then multiple times a day. I started ordering capsules to use on days between trips to the kava bar, but eventually, I got tired of waiting for the mail. That’s when I discovered that every smoke shop in my area carried kratom, and not just the capsules or tea—I found kratom extracts. Extracts are exponentially more potent. The first one I tried was called OPMS, and they were $20 a pop. I told myself I’d only use them occasionally for parties or an energy boost, but it quickly escalated to daily use, then multiple times a day.
I told myself, “Shit, this is getting expensive, and I’m having way too much—I need to slow my roll.” Then, one day, I found a smoke shop that carried my old friend Feel Free. They were only $10 a bottle and also had kava, which I loved. At this point it was now known it contained Kratom, but I was still unclear on how much. I thought I’d be saving money by purchasing Feel Free and that it might help me taper down my use. But boy, was I wrong. My local smoke shop even started giving me deals on cartons because I was such a regular. If that’s not a red flag, I don’t know what is.
The Downward Spiral
Things really hit the fan on my honeymoon. I didn’t bring any Feel Free with me because, hello, they’re liquid, and I honestly wasn’t sure if kratom was legal in St. Thomas (fun fact: it’s not legal everywhere). But I had to have something, so I brought some kratom capsules, thinking they’d less risky to bring and be enough to tide me over. Spoiler: they weren’t. Capsules were actually the only form of kratom I could keep in the house for more than a few days without devouring them because, let’s face it, they just didn’t pack the same punch as the mysterious, turbocharged Feel Free proprietary blend. I didn’t realize how much of a drastic cutback the capsules would be, nor did it even cross my mind that I could go into withdrawal.
By the second night, I was a mess. I couldn’t sleep, my legs wouldn’t stop twitching (hello, restless leg syndrome), and I was drenched in sweat. At first, I thought it was just the tropical heat—I mean, I was in St. fucking Thomas, after all—but then it hit me: I was in withdrawal. Fucking kratom withdrawal. On my honeymoon. During the day, I managed to scrape by, convincing myself I was just sweating buckets because of the sun and humidity. Plus, I’d bought a pot brownie from a local, which I hoped would help me chill out. Spoiler again: it didn’t. If anything, it just made me feel like I was in some weird fever dream where I was simultaneously too hot, too twitchy, and too stoned to function.
The nights, though? Absolute hell. I tossed and turned, jolted awake with anxiety, and wrestled with legs that seemed to have a mind of their own. If you don’t know what restless leg syndrome is, go ahead and look it up—it’s like your legs are trying to moonwalk out of your body while you’re lying there helpless. I even tried popping Advil PM and melatonin to knock myself out, but fun fact: those can actually make withdrawal and RLS worse. Oops!
By the end of the trip, I was a shell of myself. The lack of sleep, constant sweating, and overall misery had started to pile up, and I was slowly becoming more and more miserable—on my honeymoon. It eventually dawned on me that it wasn’t just the heat or the travel stress. It was the fucking kratom. When I finally put two and two together, I told my husband, and we started doing some research. That’s when we learned more about kratom withdrawals and just how addictive it could be.
I made it about 15 days without kratom after that trip, and I even started sleeping again around day seven. I promised my husband I’d never touch kratom again because, understandably, he was worried. And I meant it—I really did. And I meant it—I really did. My husband had been with me through my alcoholic years as well as my sobriety journey, and it broke my heart to think he might have to go through it all over again. That year was packed with weddings and events, and I hadn’t yet learned how to socialize or party without my trusty Feel Free. In fact, one of the only reasons I’d gotten so comfortable with not drinking around others was because of kava and kratom. (And honestly, a part of me will always be weirdly thankful for that.)
So, come the first wedding after quitting, I caved. I told myself I’d just have one bottle of Feel Free for the event. Just one. But one turned into two, two turned into six, and before I knew it, I was back to hiding bottles, puking from overuse, and scoring deals on cartons at my local smoke shop like some kind of Feel Free VIP.
Things Started Getting Out of Control
At my worst, I was drinking six to eight bottles of Feel Free a day. I was hiding it from my husband, puking regularly, and draining my bank account. Despite all of this, I convinced myself it was helping me focus and giving me energy, though the reality was far different. My workouts were suffering, my body was shutting down, and I’d wake up every morning in withdrawal (just from taking 7hrs to sleep off) panicking if I didn’t have a bottle within an hour.
I had promised my husband I wouldn’t take kratom again, and it broke my heart to hide it from him. I tried tapering but couldn’t do it, and I was too scared to quit cold turkey after experiencing withdrawal before.
Eventually, I told my husband the truth and reached out to my old addiction therapist. We discussed options, and ultimately, we decided on medication-assisted treatment (MAT) with Suboxone. This was a big, controversial step as opinions are divided on MAT for kratom addiction. Some people swear by it, while others think it’s too extreme. But for me, it felt like the best option.
I’ll go into more detail about my experience with Suboxone and how it works in Part 2, but I’ll leave you with this: the Suboxone worked really well at first—until it didn’t. Somehow, because I’m me, I managed to relapse even while on MAT. What followed was a dark, painful cycle of trying to quit and falling back into addiction.
Final Thoughts (For Now)
If you’re struggling with kratom addiction—or any addiction—please know you’re not alone. I’ll share more about my journey with Suboxone and the dark cycles of relapse in the next post, but for now, I want to leave you with this: addiction doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t make you a failure. It’s a battle, and it’s one you don’t have to fight alone.
Is it a coincidence that I haven’t written a blog post since being diagnosed with ADHD back in February? Probably not, but that’s not what I am here to talk about something. Today I wanted to write about something everybody, adhd or not, gets to experience from time to time, imposter syndrome. If you haven’t experienced this, I’d like to know where you get your confidence from, and if you have or liked to know what the heck I’m talking about continue reading below!
According to the first result I pulled up on google (lol) “Imposter syndrome, also called perceived fraudulence (how fancy!), involves feelings of self-doubt and personal incompetence that persist despite your education, experience and accomplishments. To counter these feelings, you might end up working harder and holding yourself to ever higher standards”. So in summary, it’s a mind fuck of your own creation. Do you ever feel like a phony? A fraud? That you don’t belong where you are? Guess what!?!?! Maybe its true (jk) or maybe you’re just experiencing imposter syndrome.
So this is all sounds pretty general, and I’m sure it’s possible to feel any or all of these things at a certain point without it falling into the realm of imposter syndrome. The biggest problem with imposter syndrome though is that the experience of doing well at something does nothing to change your beliefs.
Recently I found out that imposter syndrome and adhd is a common pairing (along with adhd and anxiety…. and adhd and substance abuse… welp guess that makes sense). For me, I recognize that my struggles with executive functioning (i.e staying organized, planning multi- tasking ect) often times make me feel like a failure. Is there something going on in your life you can identify that makes you feel this way? It’s important to remember that “The Real You” is full of amazing qualities too.
This can hard when in the thick of some serious negative self talk, but here are some ways to help combat falling into the trap of imposter syndrome.
Separate feelings from fact
Develop a healthy response to failure and mistake making
Know the signs
Be authentically you
Give it Name
Get comfortable with saying “I don’t know”
Track and Measure your successes
Practice self love, grace and kindness
Know you’re not alone
Imposter syndrome can make you feel inadequate. Practice some of the tips above and see how they work! My biggest bit of advice however, is just to acknowledge it and learn more about yourself and how it affects you. If you’re lying to yourself out of dear or shame, you’re lying to everyone else too. When you embrace yourself, how can you be considered an imposter?
Just reading the term “ADHD” elicits imagery of the little boy who cannot sit still in class… you know the one. The annoying kid who gets in trouble for not paying attention in class and getting distracted by squirrels. If you do not fit the the preconceived stereotype of what people think ADHD is, then there can’t be anything wrong with you because I mean… who doesn’t get distracted every once and while?
These outdated stereotypes especially affect woman. So many girls/ woman go undiagnosed because we don’t show symptons the same way as our hyperactive male counterparts, Leading us to feel hopeless, ditzy, dumb, depressed and/or anxious. Sounds fun right?
I have been in and out of therapy for anixiety, depression and even substance abuse for yearsssssss and I have been on almost every type of ant-depressent under the sun. Guess what I was never diagnoised with until the age of 33? A diagnoisis that literally makes all the other things I went to therapy for make sense…. oh yea ADHD. Now, the more I read and find out about ADHD I find that there are so many woman in the same position I am. We’re part of the late diagnosis club.
Getting this diagnosis was so liberating for me. In a weird way I was actually excited to tell people, almost as if it provide them with as much of an A-HA moment for them as it did me. Like… OH that’s why Kristen is the way she is, huh? I’m not really sure why I expected this or for people to care, but it honestly felt important to me to share. Instead I was met with confusion and blank stares. “Everybody has a little ADHD” I was told. I wanted to literally wanted to scream. Like this thing that has impacted every part of my life boils down to just being a little distracted sometimes?
SO what does ADHD looks like in adults anyways?… Well here are some of the symptoms:
Impuslsitivy & Resltlessness
Low Frustration Tolerance
A hard time reading
Daytime sleepiness
Multitasking issues
Poor prioritisation
Missing deadlines
Disorganization
Putting off tasks
Hyper focus.
Just to name a few. The best way I can describe it is feeling chronically overwhelmed. It’s exhausting and I’m far past being just tired. Luckily I’m taking steps to try to manage and better understand my diagnosis, but if the meantime ya’ll could stop gaslight… that would be great, thanks.
Raise your hand if you’ve been indefinitely furloughed during Covid-19. I bet it has been a lot of you, myself included, so I know firsthand how much it sucks! Sure it was kind of fun at first. I enjoyed having no work obligations while being blissfully unaware of my soon-to-be dire financial situation because I was receiving that neat extra $600 a week. Flash forward to 7 months later and all I can say is… ugh.
I severely underestimated the role routine plays in my mental health. Having an infinite amount of time on your hands is honestly stressful AF. I’ve been attempting to achieve some normalcy to my days but it’s not as easy as you may think. I get super stressed out thinking of ways to fill my free time and I feel guilty when I feel I am not doing “enough”. I’m pretty sure I thought I’d be Rembrandt by now, reaping in the benefits of having an abundance of hours for self-improvement. However, here I sit typing this with no new skill-sets that I can think of. Oops. On the flip side outwardly, I definitely think I’ve experienced a quarantine glow up. Remember that thing I was saying about needing routine? Well, I’ve replaced it with working out. Now before you get jelly, I just wanted to include the disclaimer that I’m fairly certain I’ve developed an unhealthy obsession. Sometimes the only thing I know what to do with myself is to work out. Read a book? Nah… let’s take my 10th yoga class of the day instead. Trust me, It’s not as zen as you may think.
Inbetween my endless amount of exercise, however, I have found time to apply for new jobs. How many jobs have I applied to you asked? So far, 57. How many interviews have I had? 2. And don’t get me started on how many times per day I refresh my email checking for interview requests and/pr callbacks.
The whole process is miserable. Believe it or not, for someone with anxiety, I am actually pretty good at interviewing. Although I definitely do analyze in my head every word I said over and over once the interview is finished. What really is breaking me though is not getting interviews. I understand the job market is a little… errr…rough right now but why wouldn’t anyone want to give the girl who just figured her shit out a chance? But seriously… I suppose my resume is a bit all over the place, but how was I supposed to know a pandemic was going to hit once I found a fulfilling job that I loved and truly respected me as an employee? I promise this last job was going to be the one that said I had been there for like 5 years… so why don’t you take my word for it and interview me…or better yet hire me? Please?!?!? Cause I am stared to get very worried.
How is everyone else handling finding work during these strange times? Feel free to reach out because I’d love to know. And if you know anybody whose hiring….. I’m SUPER availavbile! 😉
So I’ve actually been meaning to write a similar post (sans quarantine) ever since I quit drinking… 11 months. Clearly undertaking something so difficult for me has done nothing to improve my procrastination so here we are.
Anyhow, it’s no secret that due to covid-19 most of us non-essentials are stuck at home for the perpetual future To say it has been a stressful time an understatement. In my last post, I wrote about some of the coping mechanisms I have tried to use to manage my anxiety during this time. And I am aware that for a lot of people it has been drinking. I mean why not (take that statement with a grain of salt)? Most of us are not working and if we are on the front lines the stress is immeasurable. Alcohol can help ease our nerves and allows us to open up and laugh…when all we feel like doing is crying.
I understand. And to be honest this pandemic has been the ultimate test of my sobriety. I’d be lying if I told ya I didn’t have a craving for a hard one to get me through this hard time. But atlas… I will not go down that rabbit hole because if I do… well (see earlier posts).
That’s me though. I know a lot of people are able to enjoy alcohol responsibly and that’s great (I’m also slightly jealous!). However, if you’re looking to switch it up or concerned about your immune system (cause yea….alchohol will wreak havoc on that…sorry). Maybe you’re just a little sober curious. If so you’ve come to the right place! Below I’ll go over some of my favorite alcohol alternatives and how to purchase said beverages during quarantine. And yes … I have more in my tool belt than just Diet Coke and La Croix so do not worry my carbonated hating friends!
A good ol’ fashioned mocktail!
Have a lot of juice at your house? With all this extra time on your hands, it is the perfect time to experiment, plus they are lots of fun to make! If I am hosting or attending a party I love to mix up a unique mocktail. It helps me feel like part of the festivities plus it serves as a tasty mixer for anybody looking for something a little bit more spiked.
Heres a link to one of my warm-weather favorites, Coconut Lavender-Lemonade!
Speaking of mocktails… if you’re a fan of playing with flavors and really want to step up your mocktail game I suggest…
Seedlip ” The World’s First Distilled Non-Alcoholic Spirits” and inspiration for this post.
I’d be lying if I told you if I knew anything that went into creating this tasty gem. What I do know os I can make a kick-ass virgin Moscow mule with it and that it comes in 3 flavors with really cute bottles that have animals on them (who doesn’t love majestic animals?). It has a distinct but slight earthy taste and comes in a captain morgan esque- spice flavor, a “garden” flavor which I’d assume would be good for bloody mary’s (admittedly not my favorite flavor) and grove which has more of a citrus taste.
They are still shipping nationwide during everything. I suggest looking at their site for some cool recipe ideas and to learn more about them!
Ok so at this point you may be thinking, mocktails are cool and all Kristen but I need something to mellow me out during all this. Well, you my friend are in luck! So the following could be considered a little controversial in the sober community, but for me, I find them totally fine and fantastic alternatives to alcohol when I need to relax. Honestly, sobriety is so personal and it is my belief that if I find CBD beneficial it is no big deal. Again that is just me but I just figured I’d start with that disclaimer and also totally give away my next drink.
Recess or other CBD infused drinks
By now we’ve all been inundated with the hype surrounding CBD. There is just about “CBD infused” everything…everywhere. Did you know you can buy ridiculously overpriced cbd activewear? I’m getting track now though. Recess is probably my favorite on the market to bring to a party. They come in pretty pastel cans (can you tell I am a sucker for marketing?) and you feel cool sipping them. They are sparkingly seltzer that come in 3 flavors, Blackberry Chai, Peach Ginger and Pomengratente Hibiscus. 10 out of 10 would recommend if you’re looking to relax without the hangover.
Now onto my fave and what I am sipping in my feature photo…
Kava
Who doesn’t love a little natural relaxation? For centuries this calming South Pacific root has been brewed in teas but is only just starting to gain popularity in the United States. Kava has been used for centuries by Pacific Islanders due to its sedative and euphoric properties. Kava has been used to treat insomnia, migraines, and hailed as a natural alternative to anti-anxiety medicines. Ummm… count me in!
Please, please note though that I highly suggest doing your research before you decide Kava is right for you. I would not suggest drinking alcohol with it or having if you regularly take benzos for anxiety (as it is already a sedative). What’s the point of feeling relaxed and euphoric if you’re just going to sleep through it?
We have a few Kava bars in my area which is great for a non-drinking gal like myself. I actually held my 32nd (ew) birthday at a Kava Bar! I had so much fun and was so appreciative of all my friends for going on an alternative night out on the town with me. There are many places you can get kava…you can even order it on Amazon! One of the Kava bars by me is even offering curbside no-contact pickup.
So there ya have it, folks, some of my favorite non-alcoholic drinks to enjoy whether I am Zoom chatting during quarantine or out celebrating with friends (once its ok to do so, of course).
I hope you found this helpful or at the very least interesting. I never want to come off as like an alcohol shamer because honestly, that’s a personal choice and as long as it’s not causing problems for you I say go for it! If you are looking to cut back feel free to reach out for me advise or try some of these drinks. I have a few more alternatives that I use so if you’re interested in learning more shoot me a dm.
Well its certainly been a while since my last post…. and A LOT has certainly happened since then. I have actually been managing my anxiety (and sobriety) pretty well lately up until this pandemic hit (no I have not started drinking again).
And while anxiety has become a normal part of my existence the fear and uncertainness surrounding today’s circumstances have just about everyone in some state of panic.
I work for small business and I am scared shitless for our future. For the first time in many years, I have found myself happy, productive and valued at my place of employment and now it is all feels like it could be taken from me. With that said, I am sitting at work at this very moment typing this and I feel conflicted. I am grateful to still be able to make a paycheck at this time but feel strange and unsettled about not being quarantined at home.
I didn’t decide to blog for the first time in months though to just talk about me and my situation. I know so many people out there are in much more dire states than I am. I just wanted to write this to say that we’re all in this together. If you’re not accustomed to this amount of anxiety, it is understandable. I keep on hearing the phrase “We will get through this together” reiterated and I full-heartedly believe its true. If you’re feeling anxious that’s ok! Now more than ever, there are people out there who want to help you through whatever it is you may be going through during this crazy time.
Here are some of the tactics I’ve been implementing to help ease my nerves.
Exercising. Yes… I know the gyms are closed! But it has been amazing to see an abundance of small studios offering live online classes. Also, there are so many awesome on-demand workout streaming sites and many of them are offering free subscriptions right now.
Some of my favorites right now are Ash Hot Yoga available through the Mind-Body Ap. Drop-in classes are only 11$. And while there are many streaming services available nothing can quite take the place of a live class with your favorite instructors and fit community. I also really like the idea of contributing to small studios to help them sustain during all of this.
Peloton is offering a 90 free trial on its App which is pretty awesome! I am kinda crazy and have like 100 gym memberships because I need variety. So having the option to take live studio classes or streaming something completely different on my own is important to me. Other apps/ gyms I know offering free trials Aaptiv, Planet Fitness, Club Pilates, Pure Barre, Beachbody, and Openfit.
RUN! get some fresh air and log some solo miles. It will do a lot for your sanity.
2. Online shopping with small businesses. I know with the uncertainness of income telling ya’ll shopping will help ease your anxiety might seem a little strange BUT if you are able to shop small. It makes me really happy to be able to support small businesses during this time because they need the most help… also I’m getting some pretty baller stuff.
3. Continuing my sobriety. I am aware this does not apply to everybody but drinking does lower your immune system and is a depressant that causes even more anxiety! But hey I am not going to judge you if you need a bottle of wine or 5. I am kind of over memes normalizing alcoholism during quarantining but I am a firm believer in “you do you”. I just know for ME continuing to abstain from alcohol is a good thing right now.
Sooooo….. those are actually the only 3 things I am really doing right now to help myself feel better. Some of the other things I suggest you try and that I need to start doing is
Distance yourself from Social Media. OMG this is such a big one that I need to do right now. I have been excessively watching everybody’s Instagram stories. So if you’ve noticed I have watched every one of yours…no I am not a stalker!
Meditate, I have been doing yoga but I could definitely take more time out of my day to breathe.
Do things you have been putting off. Writing a blog post has been one of the things I’ve been meaning to do so YAY go me! But getting your taxes done or cleaning could help you feel less stir crazy.
Facetime/ speak with your family more. I really suck at this sorry Mom!
Anyways my main point and take away is that while the world is a super stressful place right now… there are so many resources out there right now to help you and I manage this. I wish you all good health and urge you to stay safe. Feel free to message me if you’d like any other suggestions on how to combat stress and anxiety.
SweenXiety 